Nintendo 64's Hidden Musical Gems

In 1985, when Nintendo rolled out its first-ever home video game console, Nintendo Entertainment System (NES), in America, the company wasn’t expecting sales to rocket as quickly as they did. Their follow-up, Super Nintendo (SNES), arrived stateside by 1991, but with few drastic changes to gameplay, it offered little variation between consoles. It wasn’t until 1996 that the company—and video games as a whole—leveled up with Nintendo 64.

N64 games toyed with 3D graphics, and compared to the look of Sega Genesis or SNES games, N64’s games were vivid. Gameplay pushed beyond limited controls—this was a console to get lost in. Undoubtedly these were the big improvements over past consoles, but after hours of play, another game-changer emerged: N64’s use of sound. The 8-bit songs of the NES days were replaced with more fully orchestrated original soundtracks. Elementary school minds were introduced to music scarcely heard on the radio. With certain scores acting as musical gateways, you could see how young F-Zero X players became power metal enthusiasts, or why Bomberman Hero obsessives might gravitate towards house music. Two decades later, many of these soundtracks echo the work of musicians still active today, be it Björk or Beck.

Of course, nostalgia keeps some N64 hits alive in the YouTube age. With the Super Mario 64 soundtrack racking up over a million views and a live touring orchestra routinely performing The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time favorites, there’s clearly an audience for N64 soundtracks in 2016. And yet, other great N64 scores have gone the way of, well, the console itself. So whack the dust out of those cartridges—here are 15 underrated highlights from Nintendo 64 soundtracks.

“Agony,” from Shadow Man (1999)

At the time of its late-’90s release, Shadow Manseemed legitimately scary: The protagonist protects the living from creatures of the afterlife, his deceased younger brother haunts him, and he battles a group of serial killers. As such, the soundtrack won’t let you forget just how horrifying Shadow Man’s life is, with composer Tim Haywood rolling out drone-y synths akin to those of Tim Hecker and Roly Porter. “Agony” is one of the only songs on the soundtrack to capture both the terror and momentary clarity the game offers, and it does so with the kind of guttural bass and hazy glistening found on Hecker’s latest, Love Streams.

“Quiet Forest,” from Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards (2000)

Kirby’s only N64 game, The Crystal Shards, allowed the adorable pink puff to cross six planets in order to defeat Dark Matter, this time with a new trick to combine copy abilities. There are plenty of giddyKirbyclassics from Jun Ishikawa and Hirokazu Ando’s score, but “Quiet Forest” introduces a peaceful aura reminiscent of Julia Holter and her conceptual peers. Contemplative keys eventually decelerate, glittering towards the middle-ground between Holter’s dreamy “Moni Mon Amie” and her poppy Have You in My Wilderness**.

“Hallucid,” from Tetrisphere (1997)

Regular old Tetris pales in comparison to Tetrisphere, a game that reimagines the puzzle genre and then lights it on fire with a score far ahead of its time. Tetrisphere offers a 3D grid where you must remove, not stack, blocks. Your brain works in reverse to accomplish it, and Neil Voss composed tracks like “Hallucid” to get you through it. Though Voss’ work is comparable at times to the disparate noises of Radiohead and the Octopus Project, “Hallucid” sounds more like Autechre splicing up female vocals and emerging with forward-thinking IDM.

“Giali Theme,” from The New Tetris (1999)

Voss earned a cult following after scoring his second N64 Tetris game, The New Tetris, especially years down the line when the man behind the skittering beats was finally tracked down. For New Tetris, Voss created location-specific themes that drew on trip hop and house. While fan-adored themes for Morocco and Egypt provided the necessary jolt to complete each new puzzle, it’s “Giali Theme” that marks Voss’ growth as a composer. The Chemical Brothers-styled percussion and spacious reverb show Voss elevating his sounds, and, in turn, encouraging future game composers to do the same.

“Main Menu Theme,” from Kobe Bryant in NBA Courtside (1998)

Kobe Bryant in NBA Courtside may be the only N64 sports game whose menu theme didn’t get enough love at the time of release (or even amid the nostalgia since). Though the game sold over a million copies, its music wasn’t discussed because gameplay revolved around crowd hollers and sneaker squeaks, eliminating the need for a multi-song soundtrack. Regardless, “Main Menu Theme” evokes both Odelay and Guero-era Beck, from the record scratches and funk samples to the wah-wah pedal and groove-heavy bass. All it needs now are nonsensicallyrics.

“Piranha Plant’s Lullaby,” from Super Mario 64 (1996)

Instead of pointing out the sheer euphoria of Koji Kondo’s “Bob-Omb Battlefield” or fan favorite “Dire, Dire Docks,” turn to “Piranha Plant’s Lullaby,” a song that could easily be mistaken for a Björk demo. Björk’s use of music boxes, from 2001’s “Frosti” all the way to 2011’s “Crystalline,” makes the comparison obvious. The difference is that she would splice the notes into something far more complicated that maintains the apparent simplicity of the original lullaby. Something that intricate is asking too much from N64’s launch game, but Super Mario 64 finds its own way to charm with this sonic highlight: whenever you run into a snot-bubbling piranha plant, you hear it briefly.

“Gerudo Valley,” from The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (1998)

It’s hard to argue that any song from Ocarina of Time is underrated given that the game is among N64’s most beloved, and the soundtrack has more than 2.5 million streams on YouTube. Yet of the bunch, “Gerudo Valley” never gets enough love. That entire Gerudo civilization gets the luck of hearing these double-time hand-claps and Flamenco-inspired guitar lines whenever they wander through their own valley. Once trumpet crescendos unfold into brass harmonies, you might find yourself wondering why Beirut never covered this song, or, rather, if Koji Kondo kicked off Zach Condon’s pension for Balkan music.

“Volcano,” from Pokémon Snap (1999)

Listen If You Like: Béla Fleck and the Flecktones

Pokémon Snap is the vegan-friendly game of the Pokémon franchise because, well, you don’t chuck pokeballs at animals. Armed with a camera, you’re whisked around an uninhabited island on a train buggy to photograph creatures for Professor Oak’s research. It’s somewhat lackluster, so the intrigue factor definitely leans on the game’s soundtrack. “Volcano” is a percussion-heavy number that brings a tropical flair to electronic instruments. Replace the chewy Owen Pallett-like keys that permeate these tracks with banjo, and you’ve got a Béla Fleck vibe on on “Volcano,” right down to the bass and percussion. It hits that sweet spot of motivational tempo and rounded notes, narrowly dodging the annoying high pitch offered by about half of Ikuko Mimori’s score.

“Monogenic,” from Bomberman Hero (1998)

Bomberman Hero created its own fictional planets akin to Star Wars, encouraging players to dive into the unknown and emphasizing the chaotic surreality of it all with a soundtrack of jungle music. Composer Jun Chikuma offered up fast breakbeats and sub-bass lines, mirroring electronic acts like Spring Heel Jack and Roni Size. Her prowess as a composer is best heard in “Monogenic,” a track cushioned by proper drum and bass that, in the context of the game, can feel overshadowed by the size of its neighboring tracks.

“Hanglider,” from Pilotwings 64 (1996)

On the surface, Pilotwings 64’s plot appears incredibly dull: work a flight simulator to do tricks mid-air. Fall into the rhythm of the game, though, and its incredibly soothing pace begins to affect you, with its Dan Hess score following suit. “Hanglider” washes over the listener—and, let’s be real, lulls them into a nap—with upbeat clarinet and buoyant percussion. The whole thing resembles the vaporwave of Far Side Virtual-era James Ferraro, complete with kitschy solos and digitized samples.

“Ziggurat Vertigo,” from Quake (1998)

Trent Reznor and Nine Inch Nails scored the original PC version of Quake, but the N64 version finds composer Aubrey Hodges taking the reins—and really grabbing ’em. Hodges creates the drone metal equivalent of Lustmord’s industrial ambient, down to the violin scratches and 12-minute tracks. But players must crank the volume to properly hear the soundtrack—which might explain why the game is more nerve-wracking than its predecessor, Doom—and, in turn, terrify their parents.

“Severnaya Installation,” from Goldeneye 007 (1997)

If you owned an N64 but never played Goldeneye 007, congrats on being one of a kind. Nothing felt cooler (or more anxiety-inducing) than fixing your tux, inching around a hallway, and shooting your enemy in the back of the head as that song played. Even iconic games have hidden gems, though. “Severnaya Installation” rehashes the Bond theme, as it must, but opts to break it into a moody, industrial beat, not the driving melody. It’s like the creators—Graeme Norgate, Grant Kirkhope, and Robin Beanland—phoned John Carpenter to raise the suspense without overdoing the dramatics.

“Sunset Sands,” from Beetle Adventure Racing! (1999)

When you’re a kid, speeding along in a VW Beetle is either the stuff of your dreams, or the lamest thing imaginable. But composers Phil Western, Scott Blackwood, and Brenden Tennant created a soundtrack so unabashedly groovy, even the haters could find something addictive about Beetle Adventure Racing! If detailed driving tracks and excellent vehicle handling aren’t your thing, cutting a tight turn with songs somewhere between NOLA funk OGs the Meters and the Ocean’s Eleven soundtrack should do the trick.

“Sherry’s Theme,” from Resident Evil 2 (1998)

For a survival horror game filled with zombies, Resident Evil 2 sneaks this uplifting number in like it’s no big deal. “Sherry’s Theme” provides a moment of hope, specifically when you run into the little (non-zombie!) girl of the same name, thanks to the joint work of composers Masami Ueda, Shusaku Uchiyama, and Syun Nishigaki. Without its gameplay, the song sheds its depressing tint in favor of reticent, pensive work akin to Sigur Rós. Paste Jónsi’s voice over it and “Sherry’s Theme” fits perfectly into the band’s discography. Better yet, leave it as is and tack it on to Sæglópur to extend the alreadyhalf-wordless EP.

“The Engine Room,” from Space Station Silicon Valley (1998)

In the year 3000, there are no petting zoos... and no easy level design, either. Space Station Silicon Valley proved we’re sadistic enough to assume control of animals’ bodies and tackle their surroundings, but somehow it’s rated E, in part because the soundtrack underscores the game’s intended humor. Apparently accordion-heavy space pop makes everything better. Man Man’s Honus Honus would agree; no word on whether he’s drawn inspiration from Stuart Ross’ score, but the circus percussion and vintage organ all over the soundtrack wouldn’t make that a stretch.